


Through My Clenched Teeth

by writerseventeen



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Deadpools really a baddie in this one, Expert Mercenary Wade, M/M, Pay your respects, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 08:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10510485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerseventeen/pseuds/writerseventeen
Summary: Deadpool's mean and scary. Peter's young and green but needs to learn. And he needs the mercenary to teach him.





	

“That hurts!”

“Sorry, sorry but this needs to be cleaned Parker,” Storm readjusted his grip on Peter’s shoulder and continued to dab on the antiseptic.

Peter hissed through his teeth. The wound was an island of exposed nerves. Each swipe of the towel would enrage the severed pain follicles, dripping dark red, leaving bloody streak marks down the pale of his back. The nerves screamed then simmered then straight ached.

The abscess would throb rhythmically, pulsating Peter’s upper back like it had grown its own heart. The brunette twisted his head to get a peek at it.

Johnny snapped at him, “Head forward. Stay still for like one second okay?” more antiseptic was poured onto the towel, Johnny hovered it over Peter’s torn skin, “And Peter?”

“Yeah?’

“Try to slow down your breathing. You’re close to hyperventilating.”

Peter didn’t even realize how fast he was breathing, how quickly his heart was racing. He shut his eyes and tried to focus on something beside the pain but that was impossible. His ribcage heaved.

“God, fuck it hurts,” he whispered, voice breaking. He began whimpering, rocking back and forth arms clutched around his knees.

“I know, I know man I’m so sorry,” Johnny said, wringing the towel out. “I’ve never seen you hurt this bad.”

He observed Peter’s injuries. He’d gotten slashed good, the skin was sliced right in two, the outside flaps folded over to reveal the pinkish red insides of the young hero. There was something a perverted about the injury, reminded him of a wilting, bleeding flower. It just didn’t sit right with Johnny. He was used to most injuries but this one was having his stomach churn.

Through gritted teeth Peter spoke, “Thank you Johnny, for- for doing this,” he finished quietly.

“Aunt May can’t help you out?” joked Johnny, attempting to tear the thick gauze with his teeth, hands otherwise occupied.

“She’d actually have a heart attack.”

Peter’s voice was fading along with his ability to stay conscious.

“Alright buddy just stay with me a little longer just so I can finish up.” Johnny’s eyes flickered back and forth between Peter’s drooping eyelids and his hasty patch work. There was red all over his hands. “God this is way above my paygrade. You’re staying here tonight Parker no fucking exceptions.”

“But I-,”

“Like hell you’re swinging away with your back barely holding itself together. You. Are Staying,” enunciated Johnny.

There was a heavy silence, Johnny sensed Peter’s discomfort, “Hey, the others never even come into my room. I’ll wake up early too so they have no reason to come.”

Peter passed out shortly after that.

***

When he awoke he felt much better. However, despite his back healing quickly, he knew it was still incredibly sensitive, a touch of cool air could have the whole thing lighting up again. Peter made sure to sit up slowly.

There was a glass of water on the table beside him. He grabbed it and took a long sip. The lukewarm water felt like melted ice running down his throat, his body had been a raging furnace of dry, hot pain for hours, drawing out energy from every part of his body to heal his injuries, draining him.

“You’re up.”

Johnny was across the room sitting at his desk, working on a term paper.

“Yeah what time is it?’ asked Peter.

“Almost eleven.”

“I should go.”

“We need to talk first Pete,” Johnny sighed, lifting himself up with great effort. His arms on the desk strained as if he weighed five hundred pounds and not a little over one fifty.

“About what?” asked Peter, watching him approach.

The blonde man stopped at the foot of the bed. Peter could see the heavy set of his eyes, how they were dragging downwards, the faint purple lining them. He could see the sag of his shoulders and sense the labored breath and suddenly Peter felt like shit.

“I’m just going to come out and say it,” Johnny began, eyes closing for a moment, “You can’t keep doing this to me Peter, and I feel like shit for saying this because we’re friends and I’m one of the only people who knows about you and- and you’re the one whose hurt for Christ sake!” a weary laugh, “But… I got a life right? I got shit to study for and sleep I need to be having so I don’t go insane. You can’t keep coming to me every night on the brink of death, I mean, I’m hardly even qualified! You know I hardly passed the first aid class Sue put me through. And just, thinking about you out there every night maybe getting torn to shreds maybe not- it- it has me so anxious Peter like I probably need meds. I’m fucking worried about you all the time and I’m losing it.”

Johnny’s voice did have an edge of hysteria lingering about it.

“So what do you propose I do Johnny? Are you telling me to not be Spiderman anymore?”

“No! Christ that’s not what I meant at all. It’s just-,”

“So I’m a burden right.”

“No! No! Peter that’s not what I’m saying alright? I’m never going to try to convince you to quit the whole Spiderman thing it’s just… you’re new to the game. We both are. Sue won’t even let me fight for real yet. And I get the need to try to prove yourself but what’s the rush?”

“The rush is that there’s innocent people constantly in danger Johnny. I can’t just _not._ ”

“But you’re fighting such high caliber opponents-,”

“Yeah so? That’s what I have to-,”

“-And getting destroyed.”

There was a heavy silence.

“Look Pete, that’s not a roast but you have to admit it’s kind of true. I mean I know you got super reflexes and all that but… have you ever gotten any training?”

Peter was a bit taken back. No. He hadn’t. He just assumed there was no good reason to. He handled himself pretty well against most opponents those being… well… _completely human._

 ** _Fuck_** well, maybe Johnny was onto something.

When Peter fought against petty criminals and atypical strong men he had no problem at all, but against combatants who had actually known how to fight… he often walked away with multiple injuries. And when those combatants were enhanced super humans, those were the battles he hardly walked _away from._

“I-I- no. I haven’t.”

And suddenly all the pain he had experienced in the past few months was made clear to him because ability doesn’t guarantee success. Mutants who were born with natural powers or gained them through scientific means, gained the ability to fight well, better than average, but so did every other enhanced being.

Those that were truly the best, that could win high stake battles, worked for their skillset. It made sense. Without any army or Shield training, Captain America would just be a strong dude.

“Maybe for now, you can just stick to fighting guys you know you can beat?” suggested Johnny, “I know that sounds boring but it’s better than getting beaten to a pulp right?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean logically yes, but I want to fight the big guys.”

“Like why.” Johnny stated, sounding dead inside.

Peter shrugged, “I just do, because I can I guess.”

“There’s so many people that can do that.”

“Not enough. There’s more bad than good.”

“Dark.”

“Truth.”

Johnny huffed in annoyance, “Well if you’re going to be difficult, can you at least get some training first? I hope you know that after today I’m not going to be your late night nurse anymore.”

“That sounds suggestive.”

“Zip it Parker. I’m not okay? And I’m fucking serious about it.”

“Well where the hell am I going to get training from Johnny? Every hero thinks I’m a small fry vigilante who can’t be trusted. I’m not just going to saunter up to the Avengers tower and ask for Black Widow’s assistance.”

“You’re just being difficult, and stubborn. Difficultly stubborn. You’re resourceful Peter and you live in the most concentrated area of highly trained individuals in the world. Why they all flock here? I have no goddamn clue but if you really want to fight the big guys, you can find someone.”

“Like who!”

“I’m done talking about this. Go home. Rest. Get out of my bed. I haven’t slept all night.”

***

“Honestly Francesco I can do this for hours.”

One heel of the mercenary’s boot was digging into the cheek of a fat crime lord named Francesco. Wade had inadvertently broken both the man’s arms and legs earlier when he threw him against a Chevy. He’d genuinely felt bad about it, Francesco and him had history. The crime lord was the first target Wade had left alive after completing a mass hit. It was good to see him again, but his broken friend may not be so lucky this time.

Francesco was gasping for breath on the pavement, occasionally inhaling small rocks and street dirt, sending him into frequent coughing fits.

“I told you, I told you I don’t.”

Wade tisked and spoke in chastising tone, “You know. The person being interrogated always knows.”

The mercenary dug his heel harder into the man’s face, flattening his head against the pavement till the man couldn’t breathe. The crime lord’s lips spluttered wildly against the ground, splitting on the jagged surface. After a minute or two Wade relented.

After gasping for air, the man beneath Wade’s boot began cursing loudly at him in Spanish, spitting blood out on the street.

“I’m fluent in Spanish you know.”

The cursing stopped. Wade chuckled, shaking his head, and drew out the duel pistols he kept on his thighs. He casually began checking the barrels, reloading them, and cocking them repeatedly, a routine weapons check. He fired a couple of shots and Francesco twitched violently beneath him with each one.

“Please please no-!”

“I know I said I could do this for hours five minutes ago but I hope you weren’t taking me seriously,” Wade spoke, voice dropping in pitch. He leaned down and pressed the barrel of his gun to the quivering man’s head. “You don’t want to end up like the rest of your friends here. Do you?”

Oh yeah, they were surrounded by the bodies of Francesco’s former gang. Wade had killed them.

“Or do you? You know I never take away a man’s last opportunity to die with honor,” There was no response. The mercenary’s eyes narrowed into thin white slits, growing impatient, “How about I give you a count to three.”

“No please I told you I don’t-,”

“One,” Wade cocked his pistol.

“No! He’ll kill me-!”

“Two,” He aimed it at the back of the man’s head, yawned, then tightened his grip on the handle.  

“I can’t please I-,”

“Three.”

Before the mercenary could draw back the trigger, a slimy white substance adhered itself to the weapon launching it out of Wade’s hand and across the pavement.

Wade blinked slowly. “The fuck?”

There was a brief whoosh of air followed by a soft thud, someone landing- almost undiscernibly- behind him. Wade stilled for a moment, determining if he needed to reverse quickly and shoot. Quick analysis, _no residual clangs of metal- post landing- meant no heavy artillery._ So Wade didn’t feel compelled to brandish his guns. He turned slowly and was relieved with the sight that greeted him.

It was that Spider guy, the “Spider Man.” Low status vigilante, probably mutant, athletic fighting style, clear amateur- demonstrates ineffectual technique of rendering super strength in battles. Yeah, Wade knew some general info about the… thing.

He’d been hired to take him out once. Wade had gone and done his pre hit scouting, but the Spider was interesting and seemed harmless enough. More of a nuisance than anything and Wade is not an exterminator, he’s a goddamn mercenary. Decidedly, _not_ worth his time.

Wade inspected the figure in front of him.

_Thin costume material, majority spandex, little protective wear, suggests he relies on generous mobility. Lean, lithe build, spottily muscled but proportionate, most likely highly dexterous on his feet. Position: crouched, thighs straining, poor “ready position,” already exerting himself before the fight. And, and what’s that he sees? Potential injury? Left arm maybe upper back? Slouching shoulders, lower arm suspension on the left side, slight pinch of his side with every step, causes an exploitable misstep every three or four-._

_Shit_ , spent two seconds overanalyzing. Spider most likely is planning on making his first attack in three, two-.  

The red figure shot out two “webs” from his wrists towards Wade, he dodged them easily, right then left.

_Upper back injury looking more probable. Web substance was shot promptly from right wrist but shot laggardly from left one. Best strategy: dodge and let target weaken itself._

The spider shot a web straight onto Wade’s chest and pulled hard, sending Wade flying towards the direction of the spider’s outstretched fist. Instead Wade skidded along his knees dodging the blow by an inch. As Wade regained his footing, the spider cartwheeled, literally did a backwards cartwheel, and his ankle collided with the assassin’s jaw. The bone fractured but the mercenary could already feel the bones shifting back into place with a crack. _Okay semi unpredictable._ He smiled and righted himself, back towards the Spider, feigning negligence.

He spoke, “Look, I don’t know if you know this “Spiderman” but I can’t die. So it’s going to take a lot more than level two gymnastics to take me down.”

“Oh I know all about you,” scoffed the spider. Wade listened attentively to the man’s voice: _Hm young._ “You think you’re the best assassin out there, but honestly you’re all hype and sloppy with those swords.”

Wade raised an eyebrow, “How would you know about me and my _katanas_? Have you been watching me?” a teasing tone.

_Wouldn’t that be interesting._

Wade began to circle the Spider, stepping leisurely as he went, masked eyes trailing up and down the thin man’s wary stance. The masked hero was stiff as he turned with Wade’s movements.

“No. I just hear things.”

Wade side eyed him, amused, “So what do you want Spidey? What’re you hoping to accomplish?” his motions stopped. He turned so him and the Spider were face to face.

There was a beat of silence. Then the Spiderman lunged forwards, jumping an impressive length, with his fist drawn back- ready to punch. While the wannabe hero burst forth with a distinct quickness, his attack was given away far too early. The mercenary slapped away his punch, impatient, then struck the off balanced arachnid solidly in the abdomen. He doubled over, stumbling backwards. Wade’s eyes narrowed in on the Spider’s drooping left shoulder. 

“So what are you? Some kind of Avengers wannabe?”

The Spiderman snarled at him, “No.”

“Then what? Some kind of no-name who feels it’s their civic duty to protect those in danger?” 

The kid didn’t answer. Wade rolled his eyes.

“So boring. Why’s everyone going good nowadays?”         

The Spider struck again, this time leading with his foot which Wade narrowly dodged. Quickly shifting his weight, the kid aimed another kick at the mercenary’s side, which Wade avoided by stepping closer to his opponent. In an instant, Wade grabbed the young hero’s foot, holding it wrapped around his side, the Spiderman fumbled awkwardly to regain his balance on one foot. At the same time, Wade withdrew his pistol and thrust it against Spider’s forehead.

For the split second where Wade’s finger teased the trigger- the Spider was paralyzed, watching the metal barrel rest against his forehead heavy with intent. He clenched his eyes shut, bracing himself for the kill shot but instead:

“You shouldn’t make an attack that’ll leave you off balance and you shouldn’t freeze when there’s a gun pointed at your head. You move,” the mercenary spoke coldly, as if he was educating a toddler.

With that, the mercenary roughly pushed back the the younger man’s foot, knocking the traumatized Spider to the ground. He scrambled to right himself again, long pointy limbs struggling to support his weight, noticeably less coordinated than earlier, a telltale sign of disorientation and shock, a lack of focus, a mentality easy to take advantage of.

But there was something about this hero in particular that was keeping Wade from pulling the trigger, from really hurting him like he could. Not that there was any inexplicable connection or fascination, to be honest Wade was positively annoyed with the Spider who clearly:

  1. Didn’t know what he was doing
  2. Wasn’t truly aware of who he was messing with



And that was probably it, a very unwanted and contemptuous sort of pity. Picking out the flaws in his technique and playing with power was all too easy alongside this greenie hero. Not that much fun at all, very cut and dry.

Wade watched the Spiderman right himself and crouch into a ready position, though his legs were slightly shaky and his left arm was being held close to his body as if it were in a sling. The mercenary audibly sighed.

Webbing flung across suddenly and attached itself to Wade’s chest, the young hero yanked, fairly strongly, sending the mercenary into the air. Instead of letting himself be dragged like a rag doll, Wade managed to tuck into a roll before colliding with the pavement.

He twisted around and tugged at the wiry material, yanking the Spider’s arms forward, the young hero cried out as his back resonated with pain. Vulnerable to the counter momentum, the Spider flung towards the mercenary, but instead of colliding with a fist or foot, Wade- almost superhumanly quick- sidestepped the incoming body before grabbing ahold of his opponent’s left shoulder blade, right where he knows the injury is. He presses hard.

He lets the spider _really feel_ the pain for a few seconds. The kid’s face is scrunched up in agony, being held only inches above from the pavement. Wade easily pushes him down and away after he thinks the Spider has had enough.

“You should really let that back injury of yours recover.”

The young hero whips around, voice nervous, high strung, Wade imagines his eyes have bulged, “How the FUCK do you know about that?”

Wade informs him, “So it is back, I wasn’t sure a hundred percent. Your left punches and kicks are low and weak. Easy to fix. Don’t fight till your ready that’s like the most basic rule, unless you’re into losing.”

The spider began charging towards him again. He had to admire the kid’s resilience. Wade took that opportunity to slowly slide his hands up his back till they rested on the dual pistols strapped there.

He whipped out his right handed pistol and shot just above the spider’s head, which he knew the Spider would dodge, and then immediately shot his left pistol into the spider’s upper right shoulder. It was hardly fatal, just broke the skin. He only wanted to end this, which it did. The spider’s shoulder shot back due to the force of impact and fell to his knees clutching his wound. He couldn’t get up all he could do was make pained noises through his teeth. Wade slotted his pistols back and sauntered towards the spider.

“I’ve got to say it. Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight, bring a gun.”

The Spider was a heap on the ground, all of him was caved in, small, defenseless, and wounded. He was behaving as if he had never been shot before, which was- probably true. People who had never been shot before typically acted as if the shot would kill them, even if it was nonfatal, they’d shut down and give up, which was the _worst_ possible thing to do.

Wade crouched down in front of the injured Spider.

“I’m somewhat sorry about shooting you but mostly not,” spoke Wade frankly, “Take this as a learning experience. Know thy enemy next time you jump into a situation you can’t handle,” he stands and looms over the smaller man, “I’d also recommend sticking to bank robbers and rapists. You’re not ready to play with the big boys.”

Peter snarls behind his mask as he watches Deadpool walk away.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay sidenote I also want you to know that Wade’s analysis of his target happens in like a split second. He’s very quick to take in all the potential weaknesses of an enemy, especially when they’re very obvious, which they are on someone like Peter who doesn’t know how to carry himself as a danger yet. 
> 
> Also like yeah, Wade’s rough with Peter because it’s first off a fight and secondly that’s just kind of how Deadpool rolls, he’s not into the whole mercy thing. He’s VERY experienced which was what I was trying to get at with this chapter because it’s a plot piece for the rest of the story. 
> 
> Also also, Peter and Johnny are good friends in this universe. They’re both young and new to the hero thing. Johnny's obviously more focused on being a normal, young person while Peter may be a bit *too* into the hero thing.


End file.
